Saturday, November 24, 2007

Phantom Pornographers Come In the Night

I woke up this morning knowing that I should have been somewhere else. It was actually a very similar state of mind to the one in which I went to bed, minus the wine-heavy induced fug. Is fug even a word? Well, if not, it probably should be.

Fug: noun, a cloudy, dispossessed state of mind.

There. It is now.

Everyone should invent at least one word every year. It should be mandatory. They should sneak it into their everyday use and familiarise other people with its meaning until it's been accepted by their entire social circle and has become a familiar reference. Then let the word spread outward to friends of friends until it has infected an entire town, a region, a country. Before you know it the dictionary would be populated with these words, and believe me, this would be no bad thing.

If you're in any doubt about this viewpoint, check out this TedTalk.

Unless you're as lexicographically fascinated as I am, you may not last the whole thing, but try. It's worth it and Erin McKean is one of the most engaging speakers I've heard for a while. And she has great glasses.

So, the phantom pornographer, you're doubtless wondering. Where's the link? Well, I'm glad you asked.

When I left the house this morning, the front door was ajar (How can the door be a jar? I hear you cry. Stop being so silly). This is not too worrying as we have an interior front door that was closed and locked. But more mysterious than this was the fact that in the space between the two doors, our utility cupboard had been opened. I wasn’t worried about this either, I had a nose around in there when I moved in and apart from spiders and a lot of dust, it was entirely empty.

Now to open the cupboard really does require intent, it’s not just a handle, you have to turn these catches and then the door just comes off in your hand really. The door, when I found it this morning, had been taken off and left next to the front door.

Odd, I thought.

When I went to put the cupboard door back on, I saw something on the top shelf (this would turn out to be quite ironic). I put the door down again and turned back. On the shelf was a copy of Mayfair, a well-known (or so I’m told) porn mag.

Really odd, I thought.

So, any theories gladly welcomed. Why would someone pry open the front door of the house and leave a copy of Mayfair in an empty cupboard? If they wanted us to try it out, why wouldn’t they just post it through the door with a note saying ‘Saw this and thought of you?’

Do you think we are becoming the assignation point for a group of rebellious, porn obsessed teens? Answers in the comments box to the usual.


Anonymous said...

think your porn purveyor is having a bit of a kenike personally!

Anji said...

Now that is just bizarre. O_o